A Spy for a Spy
by guitar-catlady
Summary: I saw her. For the first time in months, I saw her. As in Cammie Morgan. The girl who had been off the grid for almost half a year. Yea, I saw her. I talked to her. But then I lost her. Again. Rated T for language and actions.
1. Creeping in Canada

**This is my first GG fanfic so please be kind… Takes place after book 4, though it probably won't be normal book length, but we'll see when we get there!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Psycho: *climbs on trampoline***

**Me: *jumps really hard causing psycho to fall***

**Psycho: What was that for?**

**Me: To see if you had balance!**

**Psycho: Why?**

**Me: Every Gallagher Girl has amazing balance! Except for well… Liz.**

**Psycho: You know you don't own the Gallagher Girls series, right?**

**Me: *nods sadly, sniffles* yea…**

**Psycho: Good.**

_**Macey POV**_

I saw her. For the first time in months, I saw her. As in Cammie Morgan. The girl who had been off the grid for almost half a year. Yea, I saw _her. _I talked to her. But then I lost her. Again.

Okay, let me back up, this is probably sounds a little kooky. _Cammie Morgan is off the grid? For half a year? But she's a Gallagher Girl! Gallagher Girls don't play hooky!_ Yea, I know, I know. I am one too, remember? But back to Cammie.

During finals week in June, we had planned a fun filled summer. Bex, Liz, Cammie, and I. We were going to start in Jamaica, take a plane to Moscow, then finish off in New York City. It was going to be perfect. We were all set to go, our bags packed and ready, waiting for Bex's parents to come and take us off. And when they came, Cammie was… gone. Lost. MIA. Now I know she's Cammie the Chameleon, but there was _nowhere_ to hide in the Gallagher Academy anymore. We thought - knew - she snuck off when she said she was going to 'talk' to her mom. But we still searched the entire school, hoping to catch a glimpse of where she went. And I did. And still no one knows.

I found the journal she had left on top of the case that held Gilly's sword. I had read it cover to cover, over and over, not letting Bex or Liz know it was Cammie's. When they first questioned it, I pulled on a simple cover, saying it was some notes, preparing for next year. They questioned me every time I read it, but each time they were less and less anxious to know what it was. The first time I'd read it, I was shocked. One out the four people I had ever trusted was gone. For a long, long while.

I had cut my vacation short in Moscow, claiming I was missing the States too much. When they said they'd cut Moscow short, and we'd head for New York right away, I yelled. Louder than I'd ever yelled - even with my mom.

"_I don't want you to come along!" I slammed my foot down. I was tired of them following me, asking me if I was okay. I was not okay, and yelling just felt so good. "I want to be alone! Don't you guys ever know how to leave someone alone?" I stopped before I went too far. My hands were balled up at my sides, my eyes ice, and my mouth a tight line._

"_Mace, if this is about Cam…" Bex tried to say, cautiously stepping towards me._

"_This is not about stupid Cammie!" I yelled back. I felt bad for calling Cammie stupid, if anything, she was the smartest person I knew - except Liz, but I'm talking operative sense. "I want to be alone. In a hotel. With nothing but ringing silence and plushy pillows. Is that too hard to understand?" I crossed my arms and stared Rebecca Baxter down, which I knew was a bad idea, but she seemed to be uncomfortable by the situation._

"_Fine." Bex said, crossing her own arms and shifting her weight. "Go have your precious alone time. But if the Circle comes after to you, expecting Cammie to be with you, don't say we didn't try to protect you." She spun on her heal, and spun out of the kitchen._

"_I-if you see her," Liz said, stepping forward, holding something cupped in her hands. "Give this to her." Liz placed the object in my palm, closing my fist around it. "Tell her we miss her. And that we love her."_

"_I will, Lizzie." Tears started to brim my eyes. Liz was so tiny, so honest. There wasn't the tiniest trace of anger in her eyes. She understood what I needed. I'm sure Bex did too, but was more concerned for my safety._

"_Be careful, Macey." I smiled weakly, noticing Liz's cheeks were wet. I nodded, then strode silently toward my room, packing everything back up in my bags. If anyone was going to find Cammie, It was going to be me._

And now, almost four months since Moscow, I was in deep cover (despite my lack of CoveOps training.) I hadn't gone back to school. I hadn't called Bex or Liz, or Headmistress Morgan. No one knew where I was. Well, except me. I had taken a flight out of Moscow to Boston, taken a bus to Buffalo, hitched a ride with a newly wed couple on their way to Pennsylvania. I had done everything. Gone everywhere. I had bought a poop brown wig, chocolate brown contacts, and gotten in a tanning bed to add colour to my pale skin. I had even looked up on the internet a formula to make masks, and made an addition for my chin, making it square, instead of point and angular. I didn't even recognize myself when I look in the mirror.

And so while I walked through downtown Toronto (don't even ask how I ended up in Canada after a tour of the states) a black and white trench coat over one arm, a shopping bag on the other, I didn't expect to see _her_… with no cover.

Sure, her hair was cut shorter, with bangs framing her face, and bright green contacts covering her grey eyes, but she was still Cameron Ann Morgan. She was wearing a white v neck, ripped skinny jeans, and blue Chuck Taylor's. She still had that unforgettable, friendly bounce in her step that made her seem perky and normal. She was far away, not anything more than a head bobbing in the crowd. I stopped quickly, pulling the trinket out of my pocket, a scrap piece of paper, and a pen. I scribbled down a simple spy message, then slipped the pen back in my pocket and kept walking.

I weaved through the people flooding the sidewalks, making sure I'd pass Cammie on my way. I didn't know much about brush passes, but I guess now was the time to learn. I altered my pace, to make sure my arm would connect with hers as I passed. It seemed to go by in slow motion. My shoulder bumped hers, then my elbow, my wrist, and finally, my hand. I pressed the figurine into her palm, tucking the paper between her fingers. I felt her cold fingers respond, curling over mine as I pulled away. I looked up slightly to see her nod ever so slightly, as if she could see through my cover, and maybe she could.

To her I wasn't Marie Wangcast, intern secretary at the Toronto Star, I was Macey McHenry, clinging to her cover until the end. But then I realized the look in her eyes wasn't recognition. She just thought I was a spy with a message. She thought I was just a normal, undercover spy, not one of the people who knew her best.

And somehow, that was better than being Macey.

_**Cammie POV**_

I'd blown it.

I thought today was going to be a regular day, not a tail in sight, not a suspicious person for miles. I thought today would be okay not to wear my long, itchy blonde wig. I thought the cost was clear. But even a Gallagher Girl can be wrong.

I was walking down Bloor street, in the heart of Toronto, enjoying one of my last days here before I took off for Roseville, Virginia. I liked Canada, it was so simple here. Everyone moved at a steady pace, no one ever looking at me twice as they passed. But then I spotted her - a girl with ugly brown hair, and a thick chin. I almost laughed at what Macey would say if she saw her. Thinking of Macey made me sad, but I shook it off. No doubt the girl before me was an operative. A pavement artist. A spy. She stopped for a full thirty seconds, scribbling furious on a piece of paper. I watched her weave through the stream of people, slowing down the slightest as her arm brushed against mine, and she placed an item in my palm. I wrapped my fingers around it, nodding when she looked up for conformation. She had a familiar twinkle in her soft brown eyes, but I pushed it aside and kept walking.

After stopping at a bus station, and catching a ride back to the hotel I was staying at, I couldn't wait to find out what she had given me. Had my mother found me? Was that her, or Abby, or an operative sent by either of them? Was it someone from the Circle, giving me a warning before their attack? Was she a Gallagher Girl? Did she want me to come home? Was she carrying a message from… Zach? Had _he_ found me? Was he going to try and be my hero _again_? Or was I just paranoid and she was an operative who mixed me up with someone else?

I sighed and ran a hand through my short hair. I unlocked the door to my room, and slipped inside, going straight for the bed, where I would curl up with a pillow, and figure out what was in my hand. I crossed my legs, and took deep breaths, preparing myself for whatever it was. _Fear will not control my life. Fear will not control my life. _I opened my palm and stared at the little figurine. It was a of four girls, all in plaid skirts, vests, and white button downs. One had dark, copper skin, with long, chestnut hair. Number two was tiny and blonde, though the brown eyes looked big and dough-like. Third was a lean girl with longs legs and shining black hair. And last was an average girl - dirty blonde hair, grey eyes, forgettable face. They were Gallagher Girls. They were my friends and I. They were my sisters. I wiped away a tear, then set the little statue on the bedside table. I flipped over the scrap of paper, looking at the familiar scrawl across it, with words that made me wonder what I was getting myself into.

_Chameleon._

_Oh how wonderful it was to meet you! I had a splendid _

_time at the press conference last week! It's hard without_

_Charlie, but you rock! Remember that tomorrow_

_you work until seven! Tootles!_

_Peacock._

I stared at the sheet confused. One, I don't have a job. Two, tootles? But then my spy brain started to put the coded message together. Every seven words were the words I needed. The message. So basically it said: _Chameleon, Meet at Hard Rock, seven. Peacock._ I stared at my ceiling. Macey had found me. Macey had tracked me. Macey wanted to talk to me. I wasn't the only Gallagher Girl playing hooky. But then I remembered who gave me the note and object. Why was her cover so… un-Macey? She would be what I'm dressed as, not that! But I guess that's the thing, going in a cover you would obviously think twice about. That's how I'd chosen mine after all.

I wore a blonde wig, green contacts, and made my skin colour more pale. I had a spray of cute freckles across my nose, and I always wore a lot of mascara. I wore a lot of pink, a lot of girly clothes, and I mostly wore two inch heels. I went by Tabitha Richards. I was a student in college, studying Canadian architecture. I was someone I never wanted or hoped to be. And that's how being a pavement artist works.

So that's why, at six PM, I was slipping on a sparkly, black cocktail dress, and two inch, gold peep toes. I tied my hair back in a tight bun, then begun my facial transformation from a forgettable face to a blonde-haired, green eyed Macey McHenry. I looked at myself in the bedrooms full-length mirror, making sure there wasn't a curl out of place, or a freckle not painted. I smiled my toothy smile, and grabbed my gold clutch, heading towards the elevators.

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><p>As I strutted into the Hard Rock Café, I spotted the girl from this morning right away. The ugly brown hair was held back by a bright yellow, floral head band. Her makeup was crap - well GOOD for her cover - and her frumpy yellow dress didn't show off the curves Macey McHenry had at all. In other words; Macey was one of the best, un-trained in CoveOps, spies I'd ever known. She didn't recognize me at first, but her eyes stripped me of the blonde wig, freckles, contacts, and everything on me that wasn't me, and she started flailing her arm in my direction. I smiled wide, then began my strut towards her. When I passed a cute, black haired waiter, I winked. When I passed a table of elderly woman, I smiled wide. But when I reached the table that held a Gallagher Girl in as equally deep cover as I, I slumped down in the seat, and stared at the unfamiliar face expectantly.<p>

"Thanks for coming." She spoke, in a scratchy, Southern accent. "I didn't think you were going to show."

"I wouldn't miss it!" I made my voice an octave higher, and beamed at my perfect best friend disguised as a not-so-perfect woman. And maybe what I just said was the most truthful thing in months. The black haired waiter I'd winked at, came up to our table then, a knowing twinkle in his dark, dark blue eyes. He glanced quickly at Macey, then looked over and held my gaze. I started to heat up. He was staring at me like I was the only one there. Maybe this cover _did_ have that affect on boys.

He ordered our drinks, then strode off, and there was something about his stride that I couldn't quite place. I turned back to Macey, staring at the giant flower on her headband.

"So what do you do?" I asked in a perky voice, as if we were long lost best friends, and I guess in a way we were.

"I work at the Star." She said, giving me a small smile. She looked around the room, as if worried what people thought of her. Maybe that was part of her cover. "What about you?"

"No job." I didn't smile, just tried to read my best friends face. But she was good. She wasn't showing any Macey feelings. She was clinging to her cover until the end. She nodded slightly, then straightened when the waiter came with our drinks. Ordering our food, I kept locking eyes with him, and flirting. It was part of my cover after all. Be someone unlike yourself. After he left, I put my elbows on the table and leaned forward. "What's your cover?" I lowered my voice so much, I almost didn't hear it. But Macey was a Gallagher Girl, so of course she heard it too.

"Marie Wangcast." She stated, using the same volume I did. "Intern secretary at the Toronto Star, just moved up from South Dakota, using half my pay check to bring the rest of my family up." She leaned in closer. "And I _hate_ the colour green." I threw my head back in a bubbly laugh, as if 'Marie' had just told an old joke and I couldn't hold my laughter back. "What about you?" She leaned in to my ear. "Ms. Morgan?" I cocked a smile.

"Tabitha Richards, college student studying architecture, using a loan from the bank to pay for schooling and my hotel room" I smiled smugly, then leaned in close like she had. "And I hate frumpy yellow dresses." Macey let out a little, breathy laugh. I leaned back and watched her eyes dance over my shoulder and target something.

"First of all," She said, her brown eyes wide. "Solomon, ten o'clock." I looked in the reflective napkin dispenser, and sure enough, Mr. Solomon was entering the restaurant, making a beeline for the bar area. "Second, that waiter is totally checking you out." I spun around at that, after all, a normal girl would if her friend told her a boy was checking her out. My eyes landed on the dark haired, dark eyed waiter, who was leaning against the doors to the kitchen staring at me, as if he knew my secrets. My _worst_ secrets.

"I'll be right back." I said flatly, taking the napkin off my lap and placing it on the table. Macey nodded, and I started to weave through the crowd. I kept my gaze on the waiter, who held it and stared back. A small smirk crept onto his features, and I didn't even want to know what was going through the boys mind. I made it to him, and stood close, letting the Chanel perfume I wore tickle his nose.

"Hi," His smirk deepened as he looked me up and down. I mentally shuddered in disgust. I plastered a bubbly smile on my face, and walk my fingers up his arm. "What can I do for you?" He seemed like a player to me. His tone was dripping sexy, and the way he was staring at me made me know he wanted to pounce on me right then and there.

"Oh, I was just thinking," I rest my hand on his chest, lowering my tone to be sexy and smooth. "We could play a little game." I spun on my heel and walked towards the front door of the restaurant. I heard his pace behind me, and I listened for it until I was almost a block away from the restaurant. I stopped, propping myself up against a wall, the rough stone making my skin dance.

"Why out here?" He asked, the lust from his voice gone, taking on a darker tone. I knew I should've been scared of him, but I still let him rest his hands on the wall beside either side of my head. I snaked my arms around his neck, pressing close to him.

"Because I'm tired of being the odd one out." I traced my finger down the line of his black button down. Bystanders gave us a 'get a room' look, and I knew that was what I wanted.

"What do you mean?" He raised an eyebrow at me, and started to twirl a fly away strand from my wig.

"I want answers." I said smoothly, slipping my hands into the boys back pockets. "And I want them _now._" The boy shook his head, leaning in closer, his breath sweeping over me, smelling of Pepsi Lime.

"I don't think that's a good idea." The boy whispered in my ear, before kissing my jaw line and pulling back.

"Well I think it's _perfect._" I pulled in closer to whisper in his ear. "I have a highly trained operative back in that restaurant. I think you may know him. He goes by Solomon. Joe Solomon. And I also have an undercover best friend in there too."

"McHenry?" I could hear a smile in his voice. I nodded, breathing in his ear to make him shiver. His arms moved from the wall to my waist, holding me to him.

"So if you just can tell me what I need to know, I won't need to call for them." Calling for Joe Solomon when he had no idea I was there frightened me, and I guess the boy sensed it. I could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said:

"We both know you shouldn't do that, Gallagher Girl."

**So I had to put a little Zammie in this chapter… I know they're following covers, and they probably wouldn't actually do that, but it was fun to write. So I hope you enjoy this! It'll probably be a more Macey/Cammie story, though I do promise to add Zammie every where I can! I don't intend on making this a long story, just more of something to do while I struggle with writers block for my Darkest Powers Fan Fiction. So R&R and all that jazz… I'll probably update soon, I'm enjoying this story :D**

**Spy On!**

**~Rae**


	2. I enjoy jumping out two story windows

**Hey guys! Chapter 2 :)**

**I'm too lazy for writing out a disclaimer like last chapters, so yea, I don't own the Gallagher Girl series, yadda yadda. Get to reading.**

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><p><em><strong>Macey POV<strong>_

Okay, where was that girl? I know she's The Chameleon and everything, but she needs to stop being so… chameleony. The waiter was gone from the door, and as was Cammie. I sighed, slipped a fifty on the table for the waiters effort, and walked through the restaurant. Boys looked at my face, and wrinkled their noses. Yea, this cover is getting the worst of me. Next place I go, I _really_ need to get a better wig. And face. Though I might keep the eyes… _Macey._ Right, right. Cammie, I know.

I finally got out of the restaurant, taking deep gulps of the chilly night air. I looked around the street, eyeing the people that stood in clumps or pairs. I started to walk after I didn't spot her with anyone around the building. The black flats I was wearing were really starting to dig into my pinkie toe… I sighed, leaning down to take off the stupid shoes (don't even _think _about making a comment about Macey McHenry and shoes.) I held them in my hand as I ran down the street, looking in alleyways I passed.

"Tabitha!" I called, trying my best to keep my Southern accent in place. "Tabitha!" My cheeks started to heat up. Where was she? She couldn't have gone far, it had only been five, maybe ten minutes! I looked in one more alley, saying this would be the last one before I turned around and went the other way. And then I saw it. Cammie. Pushed up against the wall by that gross waiter. He leaned down and kissed her neck, and she closed her eyes. Was this even my Cammie? She would never do this sort of thing. I noticed a few boys standing next to me on the sidewalk, watching the couple in the alley. I snuck in, moving as silently as I could with no shoes. I hid at the other end of the alleyway, watching Cammie carefully, waiting to jump in and attack the waiter at the right time.

"Players." The guy said, and something about his voice sent tingles up my spine. He shook his head slightly.

"I know." Cammie said lightly, as if she had full trust in the perv with his hands on her waist. "So are you going to cooperate now?" she reached behind his neck, causing him to shiver.

"Hmm…" He drummed his fingers on her waist, looking up to the sky. "How bout no?" _Do you want to cooperate? No? Was he trying to rape her and she was trying to make him stop?_ I shook my head sharply. _Only interfere when she shows a sign of trouble._ Cammie's eyes went round, and I got ready to pounce, something I'd learned from Bex.

"Zach-" Hold up. _Zach?_ Zach was _here?_ In Canada? But why? How? Was he with Mr. Solomon, or completely on his own? Was he bringing Cammie to his bitch-of-a-mom? I almost burst out laughing. Zach was a son… of a bitch! Ha! I snickered quietly, not letting the wind carry my voice.

"It's best if you don't know, Cammie." He shook his head as he cut her off. I could see her knees wobbling, and soon they gave out, taking away her balance. Zach stiffened his arms slightly to catch her. I couldn't take anymore of their sappy couple stuff. I moved quick and quiet to the next alley, slithering down, then waiting outside the one Cammie was in, knowing she'd come back out to head back to the Hard Rock. But when a figure stepped out of the alley, and I was ready to jump them, it wasn't Cammie. It was Zach.

"Don't go." I heard Cammie's voice drift out from the alley, so sad. I could almost hear the tears. "Come with me. Run with me. Just please don't go."

"In a way, I am. You just won't know I'm there." He turned in my direction and almost ran me over. "Sorry." He mumbled, moving me out of the way.

"Goode." I said flatly, not daring to look over my shoulder. He stopped, and I heard his breathing tighten slowly. "If you hurt her. If you break her. If you do anything bad to her in anyway, you should be scared for you life." I finished, then started walking swiftly towards the alleyway, only to find that Cammie had already taken off.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cammie POV<strong>_

"We both know you shouldn't do that, Gallagher Girl."

"You never let me have any fun, do you Zach?" I pulled back out of his arms a tiny bit, resting my heating body on the cold stone wall. Not only had Macey found me, but also Zach, and possibly Mr. Solomon. Zach smirked and shook his head. He turned to look over his shoulder, and I studied his features. His brilliant green eyes were covered by deep blue contacts, and the normal shag of chocolate brown hair he had was hidden beneath a cropped black wig.

"That depends on what the fun is." He smiled at me. Like, _actually_ smiled at me. Not his cute little smirk, or a smug grin. A smile. That touched his eyes. And I realized, there was some things I still didn't understand about Zach Goode. And seeing him with that smile made me want to strip him of his cover, to see what it looked like with his eyes.

"I don't even want to know what you mean by that." I said, trailing a hand down his bicep. A large group of college students came down the street then, and a couple of the guys of the pack stopped to stare at us - well, more at me. I guess Zach sensed them, because he leaned down, kissing my collar bone, then my neck, my jaw line, then stopped, staring at me with his eyes. If we hadn't been in cover, I would've thought it was sweet of him to do that. But we were, so I knew he was only following the sheet. As I glanced over his shoulder quickly, I noticed the guys had disappointed looks on their faces. They slumped their shoulders, and started to go catch up with their friends.

"Players." Zach said, shaking his head.

"I know," I rolled my eyes. "So are you going to cooperate now?" I started to twirl the hairs on the back of his neck again, making him shiver.

"Hmm…" He looked up to the sky as if deep in thought, while he drummed his fingers on my hip. "How bout no?" He locked eyes with me, and I saw that they were dark.

"Zach-" I tried to say, making my contact green eyes round.

"It's best if you don't know, Cammie." He shook his head as he cut me off. My knees went weak as he said my name. My _real_ name. I ran it through my brain, liking the way it sounded on his tongue. I lost by balance a tiny bit, and the hands on my waist tighten, holding me up.

"Zach, please." I sighed, studying his eyes for something, but they were hard as ice. And it's also kind of hard to read someone's eyes when they're wearing contacts. "I've been all over North America for the past six months, and all I've gotten is beat up and no answers." Just then, Zach crushed me into him, holding me tightly, as if he was protecting me from the world. As if nothing could touch me as long as I was in his arms.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered in my ear, voice as quiet as the wind blowing down the alleyway. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry for what, Zach?" I twisted my head in an attempt to see him, but just came face to face with his neck. Awkward… He took a deep breath, making me crush into him even more.

"I've been there all these months." He whispered again, starting to twirl another strand of my wig. "And I haven't done anything." I realized what he meant. He's been tracking me, all this time. And I had no idea. Then I started to remember.

A black haired, blue eyed paperboy eyeing me as I walked past him in Sacramento, California. Another blacked haired, blue eyed boy handing me a flyer to some movie screening in Victoria, British Columbia. It was falling into place. Zach had been tracking me. And I was too caught up in my silly mission to see him.

"No, I'm sorry Zach." I said, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck. "I just realized you were there. I was stupid. I didn't realize a certain black haired, blue eyed boy on my tail." He sighed, letting out what seemed like a long-contained breath. He still twirled my fake hair, as if pretending it was my own. But my new haircut was too short to twirl.

"You're not stupid." He breathed, dropping the strand of hair, and smoothing it. "You were caught up with other things." And then he pulled away, and I felt the coolness of the night start to dance up my arms. He pressed his lips hard to my forehead, like how he did that day at the amusement park when Townsend caught Solomon. As he started to step away from me, I reached for his hand.

"Don't go." I said, almost pleading him. "Come with me. Run with me. Just please don't go." I didn't want to cry in front of Zachary Goode. I tried so desperately to keep my eyes from brimming with tears, but sometimes even a Gallagher Girl can't control her emotions. Zach started to shake his head and pull his hand away.

"In a way, I am." He started backing down the alley. "You just won't know I'm there." And with that, he was gone. I sighed a frustrated sigh, and started for the bus stop to take me home. I couldn't go back and face Macey. It would just result in an emotional overload. And Mr. Solomon was in there. Who knows what would happen if he saw through my cover.

* * *

><p>On Friday, January fourteenth, four days after my plane was supposed to sweep me off back to Roseville, I sat on the comfy bed of my hotel room, twirling the tiny sculpture Macey had given me, practically bawling my eyes out. It was perfect porcelain, and I knew it had been professionally made. Which made me wonder if Bex and Liz were in Toronto as well. I let my mind wander, thinking of all the reasons I had run, and coming up with reasons for why Macey had followed me. And all the other stuff that crossed my mind too. I think I passed out while thinking, because I only remember there being a knock on my door, and then well… there no longer <em>was<em> a door.

I bolted upright in bed, staring at the dark figure blocking my easiest exit. I still have a window to the right of the room, which I could beat my attacker to, or the vent shaft leading to God knows where under my bed. But then the dark figure moved into the moonlight, and I stared into frightened green eyes. Zach. Zach had found me. Again. I sighed in frustration, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"What do _you_ want?" I asked, crossing my arms to stare at him. It felt strange, since every time we'd seen each other these past months, he'd been in cover, and so had I. My cropped, dark brown hair was most likely a rats nest (unlike a certain McHenry, my hair goes completely poof when I sleep) and I could almost feel the mascara stains on my cheeks from the crying I'd done earlier that night. Zach crossed the room in two strides, grabbing my suitcase from beside the closet. "Seriously Zach! Why are you here?" I hissed, trying not to wake the elderly couple in the hotel room next door.

"We have to leave, Cammie." I almost tripped over nothing at the sound of my name in his voice again, but I kept my cool (well, tried to) by leaning against the door frame with my arms crossed. I tried to shake the thought that I was wearing bright green boxer shorts, and a white tank top clinging to my back from sweat, while a cute boy rooted through the suitcase that held waaaay more better looking pyjamas. He threw me a pair of dark jeans, a dark red shirt, and the fairly large black hoodie he'd been wearing. "Go put those on." He pointed to the bathroom. I nodded, giving him a questioning look, before slipping inside. The jeans weren't my comfiest, and the shirt wasn't the most… _concealing_, but the sweater made me feel at home. I knew it was Zach's by the smell - plain soap and regular shampoo, and well, the fact he gave it to me… I smiled to the mirror, feeling happy that I now had a second item of Zach's to wear.

Judging by the fact that Zach wasn't in his cover, I didn't bother with pulling on my wig or slipping in my contacts. I turned off the washroom light, then slipped into the dark bedroom. Well, it wasn't really a bedroom. You walk in through the front door, and right in front of you is a bed, a small table, a mini-fridge, and a door to your left - the bathroom. I looked Zach up and down quickly, noting his appearance in case we got separated - wherever the hell we were going! I noticed that my suitcase was re-packed, not even a little bit out of place from the way I'd left it before it got the Zach Goode root through. I picked it up, only for Zach to take it from my grasp.

"C'mon, Gallagher Girl." Zach whispered, taking my hand. I guess he'd opened the small window, because soon he was throwing my bag out of it! That had breakables in there! I stopped in my tracks, looking around the room a final time. I grabbed the porcelain figurine, stuffing it in the deep pockets of Zach's sweater. I also grabbed my wallet, fishing out twenty bucks to leave on the bed. It should cover the extra four days I had stayed. Now I know you might be wondering why I had left my wig behind, but trust me, I didn't. I had packed it along with everything else, seeing as I didn't know where to turn to get a fake id and passport done. Zach reached for my hand, but I shook him off.

"I know how to jump out a window, Zach." And with that, I stood in the windowsill, sizing up the two story jump. I've fallen this height before, landing on my back. I only walked away with minor bruising. I took a deep breath, then leaped, landing on the balls of my feet. Pain shot up my legs, and I started to hop, trying my best not to squeal in pain. I heard the thud of Zach landing behind me, then his footsteps as he walked over to me.

"Piggy back ride?" He offered. I glared at him when I saw the smirk on his face, but nodded anyway. I probably won't be able to walk for a while. Like I said: _minor_ bruising.

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><p><strong>Alright so chapter two done (: I decided I might as well make the first few chapters Zammie, before I get into the actual story (which will have waaaay more Macey, you're warned.) I like writing things between Macey and Zach too :D They squabble like siblings, and yes, I just used the word squabble. Got a problem with it? Squabble squabble<strong> **squabble squabble squabble squabble squabble squabble squabble. There.**

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><p><strong>Thank you to my amazing first reviewers!<strong>

**topXsecret**

**SparklyBananaKitten **

**123fizzy**

**Epic Phan Gurf **

**chellygoesrawr**

**Thank you guys so, so much!**

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><p><strong>In completely unrelated news, I'm going to be changing my username to RaeRaeGoesRawr so if you need to look me up, there's my new username!<strong>

**Spy On!**

**~Rae**


	3. Made of Dirt and Grease

**BAM!**

**I don't own Gallagher Girls D:**

_**Cammie POV**_

After a _very _long and awkward car ride with Zach to a small town on the border, we were parked in front of a cheap motel. I could almost smell the bacteria.

"No way." I said, shaking my head rapidly. I closed my eyes tight, and pushed down the door lock on the Corvette (did I forget to mention Zach 'borrowed' a car?) "I am NOT going in there." I crossed my arms tight over my chest, keeping the seatbelt in a firm grip. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Goode." I warned, feeling his smirk grow stronger.

"Who said I was smirking?" He retorted. I heard him unbuckle his seatbelt and take the keys out of the ignition. I shook my head, opened my eyes, and pointed to myself.

"Spy." It was my turn to smirk as he pouted. I reached my hand over, resting it on his cheek for a second, while he closed his eyes, leaning into it. I mentally chuckled, then took my hand away, flicking his nose. I used to do it with dad, laughing at the expression he'd get after I did so. And it made me sad when Zach wore the same one. I was expecting him to do something Zach-like. Smirk, or glare, or make a stupid comment. I leaned back in my seat, staring at the starry sky through the windshield. I closed my eyes again, but this time, it was from exhaustion instead of disgust. I felt Zach reach across me to unlock the door, **(A/N: I know he could just press unlock, but I find it cuter that he reached across her ;] )** and I didn't bother stopping him. For dragging me out of my hotel room, and refusing to tell me why, was enough for me to make him carry the bags in… and myself. I heard him get out of the car, head around to the trunk to retrieve our suitcases, then open my door.

"Cammie," I felt Zach shaking my shoulder. "We're here." I picked up on the mock in his voice, smiling slightly. I opened my eyes like I had been sleeping for hours. I stretched my arms towards him, wiggling my fingers in his face.

"Zachy?" I made my voice as groggy as I could. "Can you carry me?" Zach sighed, shaking his head.

"Fine." He wrapped an arm around my waist, and flung me over his shoulder, like I was a sack of potatoes. I squealed through my ear to ear smile.

"Zach!" I pounded my fists on his back. He tickled the back of my knee, careful not to drop me. I laughed like a maniac, pounding his back harder. "Zach, stop! Put me down!" I managed to get out between my squeals of laughter.

"Oh, but Gallagher Girl, I thought to wanted to be carried…" I could almost feel the smirk on Zach's face. He walked all the way to one of the motel rooms with me still over his shoulder, tickling my leg. I heard him unlock the door, but not open it, then set our bags down. He reached over with his extra arm, to shift me, and hold me bridal style. I giggled, resting my head against his chest. He kicked open the door, as if this was our honeymoon, and he couldn't be bothered to take his hands off me. I heard him push the suitcases in with his foot, while I worked up the energy to lift my head back up, and take in the room. It was the smallest I'd ever seen, and that includes the hotel room I had in Toronto. You walk in, and basically right in front of you is the bed. There was no door to the washroom, which was on the other side of the bed. Did I forget to mention that there is only ONE bed? And it didn't look like the bathtub was big enough for a person to lay in, much less bath in.

"Uh…" I felt the heat creeping up my neck, making it's way to my hairline. The only good thing about the room was that there was no bugs on the walls (I hope,) clean sheets on the bed (I think,) and at least a little privacy for the changing of clothes (I wish.)

I stood on one side of the bed, facing the closed door, Zach stood on the other, facing the bathroom. It was what I had come up with, and was sticking to it (mostly because I was _not_ wearing my best looking undergarments.) I pulled on my comfiest pair of sweat pants and a dark blue tank top, only standing without clothes on for about two seconds (you learn how to change fast when the bathroom's occupado and you're trying to hide the fact that it's _that_ time to your friends.)

"You done yet?" I whispered, sitting down on the bed without my eyes leaving the wall. I heard Zach's grunted reply of "Yes" and the squeak of bedsprings as he sat down too. "So what was the point of dragging me out of Toronto?" I asked for about the billionth time. He sighed a fairly dramatic sigh as he flopped down on the bed. I stood up, pulled the sheets back, and crawled in, not even taking up a quarter of the bed.

"That's a secret, Gallagher Girl." He whispered, though I heard the strain in his voice. I knew whatever had made him come and take me was something bad, really bad. I sighed through my nose, flipping over to look at him. He laid on his back, eyes dancing across the ceiling. I propped myself up on my elbow, staring at him, taking in his harsh jaw line, the way his hair was falling on the pillow… He rolled his head over to look at me and I could see the pain in his shining green eyes.

"But if it affects me, I deserve to know!" I snapped, throwing my one arm up in the air. I noticed a twinkle of sadness in Zach's eye. Wait… Zachary Goode was _sad_? And I thought I saw everything when I saw Mr. Solomon crying.

"I know." And with that, he turned over, his back facing me. I sighed, and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. After about ten minutes, I heard Zach's breathing slow, and I concluded he was asleep. I crawled out of the bed, grabbed Zach's black hoodie, and slipped out the door, all without making a sound. I found the blue Corvette we had come in, and sprawled across the hood, staring up at the stars. I heard one of the motel doors open, and figured it was probably Zach coming to look for me. I sat up and looked towards the room I had come from. Not a soul wandered. My breathing sped up, and I look around the lot, my eyes finally landing on a broad shouldered figure walking my way.

"Hello?" I called. The figure paused slightly, as if trying to remember something. "Who are you?" I slid off the hood of the car, and started backing towards the Motel room.

"Cammie?" I heard Zach's groggy voice behind me, and I quickened my backward pace towards him, my eyes not leaving the figure advancing towards me. I sensed Zach come up beside me, and I stopped, hiding slightly behind him. I know I'm a spy, and I should be standing, ready to fight at Zach's side, but there's something about a tall, dark, and mysterious figure in a motel parking lot that makes a chill run down my spine. The figure reached out a hand, as if in peace. They stopped a few feet away, and I finally caught sight of the persons face. It actually surprised me. And a lot of things don't surprise me anymore. The only person that could catch me off-guard was…

"Josh?"

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><p><em><strong>Macey POV<strong>_

No. I couldn't have lost her. Not again. I ran up the alleyway, looking for any trace of her. I ran through the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of blonde hair or a sparkly black dress. But all I got was nothing. Cammie was fast. Cammie was good. Cammie was… gone. She knew CoveOps. She knew how to change her appearance with the snap of her fingers. And me? I was admitting defeat, and heading back to Roseville, Virginia for the second semester of my (technically) sophomore year, in a dingy old Pontiac, the radio blasting stupid pop songs all the way.

"Can I help you miss?" The security guard that chews a lot of bubblegum stopped me at the gates.

"I need to speak to Headmistress Morgan." I said lamely, shoving my hands in the pockets of the dress I hadn't bothered to change out of. My wig was itchy, my chin was sweaty, and my eyes were foggy. All I wanted to do was curl up on my bed and be _home._

"Do you have an appointment?" He popped his gum and looked over his shoulder, probably expecting Mrs. Morgan to come through the doors and greet me.

"Not yet." I pushed past him and ran towards the school, his protesting shouts only making me run faster. As I pushed open the old oak doors, I could smell Chef's famous lasagne, and feel the stares of my sisterhood. Don't get me wrong, I would've been staring too if a woman I'd never seen before came bursting through the front doors of my school. I started to walk towards the staircase, dead set on going to Mrs. Morgan, then to bed. I pulled the wig off and threw it at Mick Morrison, letting my greasy black hair tumble down my shoulders (I hadn't showered for a few days, I was kinda busy driving.) I peeled off the chin adjustment, and dropped it to the floor beneath me. And finally, I paused for five seconds to pull the Hello Kitty contact case from my pocket, and slip the brown contacts in the solution. I handed it to Anna Fetterman as I passed, heading for the Grand Staircase. When I was almost at the top, I reached a jaw dropped Tina Walters. I put a finger under her chin and closed the big mouth of hers.

"Close up, honey." I tossed my hair over my shoulder. "It keeps the rumours out." I continued up the stairs, ignoring the silence of my sisters as I pushed open the Headmistress's door, being greeted by a "Welcome back, Ms. McHenry" and being tackled to the ground.

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><p>Now under most circumstances, being tackled by Rebecca Baxter is either a Protection-and-Enforcement thing or a payback's-a-bitch thing. Rarely ever a combination of both.<p>

"Bex." I choked out. "I can't… breathe!" I wheezed as her knee dug into my ribcage.

"Good!" She snapped, tightening her hands around my arms. I know I could've been using my legs to get her off, but we hadn't covered how to get a Bex off you yet in P&E. I coughed, spewing saliva on her cheek, but she didn't seem to care.

"Ms. Baxter," A strict male voice came from behind Bex. "Please let Ms. McHenry go." Bex grumbled something very naughty (and in Portuguese) but reluctantly pulled me roughly to my feet. I rubbed my eyes and stared at the man before us. How did Mr. Solomon manage to get out of Toronto before me? And faster than me? Well he might've taken a plane…

"Macey." I turned to see Mrs. Morgan standing behind me. She smiled at me, and gave me an awkward hug. "Rebecca, Elizabeth, please excuse us." She grabbed my hand and pulled me into her office. Bex grumbled more words in Portuguese, as Liz gave a small wave and dashed out the door. Once they were gone, Mrs. Morgan sat stiffly in her chair, hands laced together. "Where have you been?" I shrugged non-chalantly.

"Places." Mrs. Morgan's shoulder's slumped the tiniest bit. She stole a glance at Mr. Solomon, then turned her attention back to me.

"Did you see Cammie?" It almost seemed that my headmistress and my teacher were both holding their breath for my answer. I plopped down on the sofa, crossing my legs.

"Maybe." Their breath released, and Mr. Solomon came over, sitting on the coffee table across from me.

"Did you speak?" He leaned forward, and toothpaste breath swept over me. I guess on his plane ride back, he kept up on hygiene.

"Small talk." I shrugged again, sinking farther into the couch. I want them to go away, I want to shower, then avoid Bex, and sleep (while avoiding Bex, which would probably mean little sleep.)

"About what, Ms. McHenry?" Joe Solomon was becoming impatient.

"Covers, jobs, no-" I didn't get a chance to finish.

"What's her cover name?" His eyes stared deep into mine, as I tried to hold back Cammie's cover, to keep her safe.

"Tabitha." I blurted, before I could stop myself. "Tabitha Richards. She's blonde haired, green eyed, and tall, fairly tall. She's studying architecture at the-" Again I didn't get to finish. Mrs. Morgan got out of the chair at her desk and started pacing.

"We need to get Abby." She said, tapping a finger on her chin. "Maybe the Baxter's… Where did you last see her?" She stopped a few feet from the door, not looking at either me or Solomon.

"Corner of Shuter Street and O'Keefe lane." I said, remember the small alleyway she'd disappeared in. "Downtown Toronto. By the Hard Rock Café." I exhaled slowly, staring at my dirty, blistered feet. Stupid flats. I looked up, to see Mr. Solomon and Mrs. Morgan share a worried glance.

"You may go." Joe said, getting off the coffee table, and heading to the door. "And Ms. McHenry?" I looked over at him, expecting him to scold me, or congratulate me, or some thing other than say: "See you in Sublevel Two."

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><p>Now you're probably wondering, <em>What do you mean, Sublevel Two? Isn't Macey technically supposed to be in Sublevel One, since it's technically her sophomore year? <em>Trust me, I'm thinking the exact same thing. See, I understand the typical boy mind, example, when he rakes his hands through his hair, he might be uneasy. I can sometimes understand the spy-boy mind, example, when he tells you to go looking for answers, he wants to come with you (an example proven true by Cammie and Zach.) But the one thing I will never understand is the spy-boy-teacher mind. That is something that makes no sense whatsoever.

"I don't get it!" Apparently, the above applies to Elizabeth Sutton as well. "I just don't get it!" Upon arriving in our suite, after the discussion that Bex and Liz so kindly listened in on, Liz has been trying to uncover what Mr. Solomon meant, and Bex… was being Bex. Sitting on her bed, glaring at me, then glaring at Liz, then glaring at her laptop, and back at me. I knew she forgave me, after all, I had found Cammie (sort of) but I knew part of her was holding back (the glaring part) because I had let her slip away (and it had taken me six months.)

I sighed, and headed to the chest at the end of my bed, picking out a pair of comfy pyjamas, and heading to the washroom. I stood in front of the mirror, bra and underwear, and stared at myself. Stared at Macey McHenry, the girl who had been lost for so long. My black hair was shined with grease, my blue eyes were dull and lifeless, and dirt was smudged on my body, head to toe. I ran my pinkie finger over a scar on my arm, one from that battle on the rooftop, lifetimes ago. It was a thin white line, running from my elbow around to my mid-forearm. It was something that tied me back to the life I used to have. Where I was kind of happy with who I was. Kind of proud of where I stood. Kind of depressed about a lot of things. But now… Now I don't know what to feel. There's so many things that have gone right, and gone wrong, that I just don't know anymore.

"Macey?" Liz's small voice came through the crack in the door. "You alright?" I stared at myself in the mirror. Was I alright?

"Sure." I splashed cold water on my face, then pulled on my pyjamas. I'll shower tomorrow morning, assuming Bex is feeling non-violent. I took one last look at myself before entering the bedroom, to see Bex, standing on her bed, a giddy look on her face. "Uh, Bex?" I cautiously walked towards my bed, dumping my dress and tights in a pile. I pulled back the sheets and climbed in, waiting for Bex to speak.

"I think I know where Cammie is."

**And the end! Of chapter three… This took a little longer, I guess because I've been caught up making videos and stuff… Fanmade Gallagher Girls trailer up on Youtube! Just add you and stuff to - /watch?v=aB26fFeede0 **


	4. Purple Eyes

**And here is chapter 4! **intense music****

**I do not own the Gallagher girls series! D:**

_**Macey POV**_

"I think I know where Cammie is." Bex announced, looking proud of herself as she started to search through the chest at the end of her bed.

"What are you looking for?" Liz asked, coming up beside her to watch her hands search. She jumped back in surprise when Bex stood up straight, holding a pair of jeans, and a navy blue t-shirt. "Bex?"

"Macey, shower." Bex instructed, pulling off her blue sweater vest. "Liz, change." She started to unbutton her blouse. We stared at her, and she looked up, eyes expectant. "Now." And no longer had the words left her mouth, that me and Liz were in motion. I grabbed a pair of dark jeggings, a dark purple tank top, and a grey pullover sweater before slipping into the washroom. I turned the shower on, and hopped in, not bothering to take my sweet time like I usually do. I love showers. Sighing, I cut the water and climbed out, wrapping a towel around myself as I blow dried my hair.

"Oopsie daisy." I heard a tumble and a crash, and Liz's signature a-minor-catastrophe-just-happened-because-of-me saying. I raised an eyebrow, but pulled my clothes on quickly, heading out to see what the commotion was. Liz was staring at our stereo, _our second stereo_, standing in her jeans and a bra.

"Liz." I hissed. "That's the second one!" I looked over at Bex, to see her lips twitching into a smile, and a short laugh bubbling through.

"It was my fault, _mom_." Bex walked over, picked up the bigger piece of the broken stereo, and placed it on top of the table where it was before. She then leaned down, and picked up the shirt Liz must've dropped, and placed it in Liz's outstretched hand. "Shirts are for wearing, not for throwing."

"Well what happened, _daughter._" I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe.

"Threw a Comms at her, she didn't know what it was, so she used her shirt to knock it away, and managed to instead knock the stereo off the table." Bex explained, picking up the smaller piece of the stereo, examining it. I sighed, shaking my head, and walked over to sit on my bed.

"So what exactly are we doing?" I asked, watching Liz walk over to her laptop, and start typing furiously. Bex obviously explained it to her while I was showering.

"Finding Cammie."

_**Cammie POV**_

"Josh?"

What the frig was he doing here! Does Cammie have a stalker? Yes, Cammie does! And it wasn't Zach.

"Uh… Hi Cammie." Josh muttered, a blush creeping up his cheeks. I internally sighed, but on the outside, I tilted my head, while stepping around Zach, who was caught in a trance.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, taking another step towards him. He looked up at me through his lashes. I remember when he used to do that, well over two years ago. I couldn't help but wonder if he does it to DeeDee, and if she giggles the way I used to. But giggling at lash-batting wasn't on my mind right now.

"Aunts wedding." He said quietly. "I-I had too much coffee earlier, couldn't fall asleep, so I decided to come out, get some air, and I saw someone on the hood of a car, and they looked upset, so I was going to ask what was wrong, and the-" I was going to cut him off before his ramble became more than just repeating the current situation, but Zach beat me to it.

"Jimmy." Zach took a step so he was beside me, arm brushing mine. Josh looked from him to me, and then stepped back a little, as if just remembering that I'm going out with Zach, and Josh has a girlfriend anyways.

"It's Josh." He said, sighing, shoving his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing here?" The way he said it, I knew he was talking about Zach. And his tone was almost like he blamed Zach for our break-up.

"We were in Canada." Zach said, no emotion in his voice. Josh stared back, a slight glare in his eye.

"Oh." Josh looked at me. "I'm sure Suzie enjoyed it." I stiffened. _Tell Suzie she's a lucky cat._ It was almost the same tone. Serious, but with a hint of flirt.

"Uh, actually…" I racked my brain. _Think Cammie, think!_ Luckily, I didn't have to, Zach came to my rescue.

"Suzie didn't come." Zach looked at me, and something passed through his brilliant green eyes, but as soon as it had come, it was gone. "It's just us." 'It's just us?' Really Zach?

"Oh, well…" Josh scratched the back of his head, and looked over my shoulder. "I should probably go. Your parents are probably wondering where you are." I let out the breath I'd been holding. _Good, he doesn't think I ran away with Zach._

"No, when I said it's just us," Zach wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "I meant it's just _us._" Oh my God Zach! Way to make him think I'm a whore! He will _so_ not live this down. I'll kill him in his sleep!

"Oh." Josh has said that a lot tonight, hasn't he? He looked at me surprised. I looked right back at him, trying my best to hide my emotion. _I'm over you, I look awesome, and I'm happy._ Or, at least that's what I was trying to communicate to him. "Well I'm sure you have better _things_ to do than talk to me." Yupp. He thinks I'm a whore. Thanks, Zach. Josh turned on his heel to go. I waited until he was far enough away, before slapping Zach on the back of the head.

"What was that for?" I half-yelled at him. I knew Josh heard, and I knew he had turned to stare at us, but I didn't care.

"Oh," What is with boys and saying 'oh?' "It was worth it." Zach smirked down at me, and unwrapped his arm from my waist. I sighed, fairly loud and dramatically I must add.

"You're impossible!" I threw my hands up in the air, before placing them on my hips. I could still feel Josh's eyes. I could almost hear his thoughts. _Fight, fight, fight_. I knew Zach knew that Josh was staring. He leaned down towards me, but I stepped back.

"What?" He pouted, making his eyes round. "No bang bang?" My jaw dropped at his words. I didn't even blink. I'm sure Josh was the same way.

"That's it!" I half-yelled again. "I'm taking the keys, I'm taking the car…" I started to storm away. I knew Josh was feeling hope, hoping I would break it off with Zach. I don't think that was going to happen. Zach and I… We might fight a lot, and make each other look like fools a lot, but we know the truth about each other. Josh… He could never meet the real Cammie Morgan.

Zach caught my wrist as I turned. "Wait Cam, I didn't mean it, I just-" I turned to face him, and that glint that had crossed his eyes before was back, but I couldn't tell what it was. It was unfamiliar to me.

"I'll be back, Zach." I said, cutting him off. He looked relieved, and he let my hand drop. "I just need to clear my head." I watched over his shoulder as Josh turned back around and continued back to his Motel room.

"No." Zach stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's not safe." I sighed, and started to walk back to the room. He had no choice but to follow.

"Nothing is ever safe for me, is it?" I asked sarcastically, opening the door to our room, and standing in the doorway, feeling Zach's arms wrap around my waist, and his breath tickle my neck.

"No." I knew he was serious. There was no joke or sarcasm in his tone, just flat and no-questions. I sighed, and unwrapped his arms from my waist. I climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, suddenly chilled to the bone. I felt the bed dip as Zach laid down beside me. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer to him.

"Zach…" I sighed, turning over to look at him. His eyes sparkled sadly in the darkness, and I reached a hand up to stroke his face. His arm tightened around me, protectively, and he leaned his head down to rest his forehead on mine.

"I need to know you're safe." He whispered, his eyes not leaving mine. The glint from earlier was still there, but I still couldn't trace what emotion it belonged to. I rested my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath it.

"I am." I said quietly, leaning my head down and resting it on his shoulder. Zach's other hand wove into my hair, and his lips brushed the top of my head.

"Goodnight, Cammie." I was being pulled, unconsciousness calling to me. I struggling to stay awake, but it was like I was swimming, and sleep was a pool of dark, thick water, where a hand was grabbing my ankle and pulling me under. Struggling only makes you sink faster.

"Mm-hmm." I managed to get out, before the blackness closed over my head, and lead filled my body, making me heavy as I fell asleep.

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><p>The back of my eyelids shone brightly, and my body was weak and heavy. I peeked open one of my eyes, then the other. I reached my right hand up to rub the sleep from my eyes. I took in my surroundings, noting that the door of the room was open, and hot sunlight was drifting through. I propped myself up on my elbows, looking around the room again. Bathroom, door, bed. Where was Zach? I sat up all the way, and stared at my sweaty hands. I threw off the covers, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had fallen asleep in my shoes, so I headed right out the door, and into the parking lot of the motel. The blue Corvette we had come in was missing, leaving a silver Chevrolet Tahoe, a red Jeep Cherokee, and a yellow Dodge Neon. The three same cars that had been there last night.<p>

I saw a red Mustang pull into the lot, and head straight for me, not slowing down one bit. I braced my hands above my face from the sudden glare of the headlights. Why I didn't move, I don't know. My feet felt like they were glued to the concrete. Time started to slow down. I watched the tinted passenger side window roll down, and a familiar lock of reddened brown hair sweep out. And I started to move. I ran full speed at the car coming towards me, grateful that we had covered this in P&E last year. Just before the car made contact, I jumped onto the hood, ran over the roof of the car, and flipped off the end, landing catlike on my feet. I noticed the blue Corvette idling at the entrance of the parking lot. I checked over my shoulder to see the Mustang preparing for a u-turn. I started to race towards the Corvette, feeling the presence of the car behind me grow closer and closer. I watched the drivers side door open on the Corvette, and Zach stepped out, looking cool and calm, but terrifying at the same time. Just as I felt and heard the Mustang less then inches away from me, I spun, and jumped on the hood again, only this time, hanging on. I stared at the driver of the car, trying to keep the scared looked off my face. He had a mask on, the face of a devilish clown, with a pointed tooth smile reaching high up on the cheeks. I then looked over to the passenger. Her face was hidden behind a similar mask, but her long auburn hair blew in the wind blowing in through the window, and her green eyes peeked through the eyeholes.

Zach's mom.

The car stopped suddenly, and I was flung off the hood, and onto another. I opened my eyes, expecting to be stuck between the hood of the Mustang, and the Corvette. But instead, I saw Zach's face, looming over mine.

"Cammie?" He touched my shoulder lightly. "Cammie, you're okay." I squirmed slightly, and realized I wasn't stuck between cars. But something was keeping me down. Something heavy, something invisible. Zach's hand brushed over my cheek. "You're okay."

"No!" I screamed. I saw his mom's face looming over mine now, her hair tickling my cheek. "Get off!" I yelled at the invisible force keeping me down. I had to run, I had to fight. I had to.

"Cammie," Zach said again. I thrashed out, trying to get the force off me. "Calm down." I thrashed again, and heard someone grunt. Good, I got it off me, or I hit someone. Either way, the pressure released from my arms a tiny bit, but came back stronger afterwards. Mrs. Goode reached out and striked my face, hard, strong.

"Stop!" I screamed again, as she continued to repeatedly hit my face, the blows hurting less and less each time.

"_Gallagher Girl._"

And then I woke up.

* * *

><p>I flung my arms out, colliding with someone's shoulders. They felt muscular under my hands, but not too muscular. I opened one eye, then the other, and was met by dazzling… purple eyes? They were rimmed with full, black lashes, and a tiny bit of green eyeliner. Their skin was pale, with rosy cheeks, and full red lips. The hair that fell over their shoulder was soft black, streaked with red and their bangs tied back with a small blue bow.<p>

"Told you." The girl leaned back, a devilish smile creeping across her face, though she didn't look at all terrifying as she did so. She appeared to be my age, if not older. She was wearing a black jacket over a dress shirt and tie, and a black skirt hung from her hips. A blood red scarf was wrapped around her neck, matching the blood red, knee high boots on her feet. "I'm a genius." She climbed off me, standing at the side of the bed. Zach stood beside her, his hair a mess, and his eyes tired. The door to the motel room was wide open, and I could tell it was cloudy outside.

"Thanks," Zach said, staring down at me. "You okay?" I didn't take my eyes off the girl standing in our motel room.

"Who's this?" I asked, ignoring Zach's question. The girl looked at me, and her eyes danced with delight. She stuck a hand towards me, causing the silk scarf around her neck to sway.

"Macy Lowe." **(A/N: If you haven't heard of the Darkest Powers series, don't bother with this authors note. Yea hi? Bleeding Red and White fans? Macy isn't dead! The story isn't dead! In fact, I'm working on the next chapter right now! Surprising, right? I love Macy too much to let her die, so now she'll live on! Only not supernatural.) **I cautiously shook her hand. _Having two Mac(e)y's is going to be awkward… _She smiled at me again, only this time it wasn't so evil, more comforting and welcoming. "Gallagher Girl." My eyes widened at that. She was one of us? I'd surely never seen her at school before. This had obviously showed on my face. "I graduated four years ago…?" I don't remember her. Well I probably didn't notice people any older than a year older than me.

"Why are you here?" I sat up, wiggling my toes to feel my shoes off my feet. Macy looked over at Zach, a smirk creeping onto her features. Unlike the other expressions I'd seen her wear so far, this was by far the scariest. Her strange eyes had a mischievous glint, and her eyebrows tilted at a dangerous angle.

"Dumbnut here said he had a heavy sleeper on his hands." She rested her hands on her hips, revealing a perfect French manicure. It didn't suit the rest of her attire, but in a way, it made her look tougher. She threw her smirk my way, making my stomach uneasy. "I'm perfect at waking people up." I shivered, pulling the covers tighter around my legs. "Better than Rebecca." Bex was really good at waking people up. It was one of her specialties.

"How do you guys know each other?" I asked, staring between the two. Zach looked nervous; he was pulling on the collar of his shirt, rubbing his palms together, stealing side glances at Macy. But Macy wasn't nervous at all, no. She was terrifying. Her eyes were staring darkly at me, and her posture was calm, hand resting on her hip, back straight, right leg pointing out.

"Oh, dumbnut didn't tell you?" She laughed a short, bubbly laugh, yet with no humour in the tone. Zach got more nervous as she leaned forward, the glint in her eyes deepened, and her smirk grew. A small amount of freckles shone on her slightly upturned nose. Her eyebrows were thin and angular, making her purple eyes seem almost cute. If you were just looking at her face, with her bangs tied back, and her clothes less edgy, she could pass for fourteen. "I'm his sister."

**BOOM! Chapter four!**

**I find it funny that I wrote this whole chapter listening to Good Life by One Republic on a loop… There's a link for Macy's outfit on my profile, along with dresses Cammie and Macey wore to the hardrock cafe. And if you want to learn more about Macy, go to my story Bleeding Red and White, and read chapter 7. Just ignore all the stuff about being a supernatural and everything. REVIEW!**


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